I Wish U Luck

𝓞𝓝𝓔

I tilt my chin up gazing at the black sky sprinkled with shining stars. My breathing is even and slow as I relish in the beautiful sight before me.

I'm not sure if I ever recall seeing anything better, anything nicer.

The wet grass dampnes my skin seeping in through my clothes. Though I'm slightly uncomfortable with the feel of it, I continue laying despite it.

The scent of the wet grass is soothing and pleasant. The night chirps with its creatures like a low relaxing melody. I sigh in content.

I close my eyes, my mind straying away.

It takes all of a couple second before unpleasant thoughts begin flooding in.

Memories of growing up flash behind closed eyes. The once happy memories slowly begin turning sour.

A heavy weight lays on my chest, suffocating me. My once peaceful mind is yanked to disturbance by the sorrow overwhelming me.

I miss her, so much.

I pick at my skin trying to replace this feeling with something different. I continue to pick at the scabbed skin on my palm, that's always facing the nails of my fingers, warm gooey liquid seeping under my nails. 

My nails continue digging, the liquid slowly begins dripping down my hand tainting the grass with the harsh red.

I know I shouldn't. I know it's not right. I know it's not pretty. I force my hand away from my palm sliding my arm across the other side of my body. My bloody fingers slide through the sleek grass trying to rid themselves of what they've done.

I feel the itching sore skin covering my palm burning with anger at what I've done. I force my gaze away from the bright shining moon to look down.

Under the low light of the moon there lies the ugly gash of my inability to control myself. The blood continuous to gush out slowly.

I try to ignore it and get back to what I was doing, but it doesn't work.

With my diminished mood, ruined by my plaguing thoughts, I stand from the grass, running my uninjured hand through my curly hair that's messed with grass and dirt, I drop my hand moving to dust off my back.

Today's been... different. I tried to clear my head from my Ma's anniversary but anywhere I go I can't get away from it.

I went to the cemetery, I was there for a couple hours, but now, I don't want to keep thinking of her.

Is that awful?

I don't want to constantly remember the joy she brought because when I do, I have to remember what came next. What always came next.

I love her but she's gone; she left me; some part of me will always hold a grudge over it no matter how much I try not to.

I shake my head bringing my focus back to what I'm doing.

I'm stumbling around the field, of the now empty park, heading towards my lone car. I'm feeling slightly depressed... and icky with the remaining wet mud and grass sticking to my skin and hair.

I keep my palm, that's now haltered its bleeding, to my chest getting some of the blood on my pink tank top. I bite the inside of my cheek, the pain still tingling.

I grab the keys from my sweat pants pocket as I'm approaching the car. I pass the swings sitting just a couple feet in-front of the car.

I'm about three feet from my destination when I fall off the forgotten six inch curb, my foot twisting onto the parking lot.